The Bucharest Mall.
We had girl time in Bucharest this weekend. My idea of travel is so skewed that three hours to Bucharest hardly seems like a trip anymore. I met Tara, Jackie, Katherine and Beth at the mall on Saturday afternoon. "Yes we have a mall!" is the advertisment for the gigantic galleria which skirts the outside of town. And the Bucharest Mall is, in the tradition of the Redondo Beach Galleria a full-fledged mall. From the Pepto-Bismo pink walls to the food court on the third floor, yesterday I tasted America. We window shopped, we tried on clothes for the fun of it, and then we went to the "Target-type" shop to look and drool over all of the imported food. But the highlight of the Bucharest mall experience was going to see a movie. Three times the price of a movie in Ramnicu Valcea (which still only added up to about a three dollars) this theatre was a little bit of home; comfy seats, cup holders and a concession stand (it smelled like buttered popcorn!). The only strange part of the experience were the seating arrangements. You are assigned a specific seat upon purchase of a ticket and as I came to find out the hard way, your seat number is also assigned to a side of the theatre. I was in seat six, row five, on the right side, but mistakenly I sat in seat six, row five on the left. Half way through previews a man came into the theatre and started yelling at me in Romanian. He popped my American bubble rather quickly. He apparently had seat six, row five, right side. I appologized, moved two seats over and fumed. Why not number the seats in the row, one through twelve?! Luckily the movie began and i was lost once again in my fictious America.
Seeing movies in Romania always trip me up. Three hours I am emerged in English and Hollywood and home and then when the lights come up, I look around and I momentarily forget where I am. It makes me more homesick than I would like, but movies are like my drug. I just can't get enough. It is instant home. We saw White Oleander, which was depressing but a good chick flick. Other than the movie, spreading Peace Corps burfa (gossip) and wandering the city it has been a weekend of feasting; donuts, gelato, Lebannese, Morrocan, and shwarma, listing all of the junk we have consumed makes me blush. What are girl's weekends for if not to eat, gossip and cry at sappy films!